Fallen
by ButterflyRae
Summary: It was like I couldn’t focus on anything else. All I could do was sit there. Sit there, think of her, and burn. Dasey Future Fic.
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**_

Yesterday my stepsister went on her first date since she moved in with me. And when she told me about it I was happy for her. Really I was. The way her last relationship ended was, well, horrible, so it was a big step for her.

She was so excited about the whole thing too. Excited and nervous. She must have spent the entire afternoon just trying on clothes. And doing her hair. And generally fussy about everything in a way that you just can't help smiling at. It was good to see her like that again.

And, of course, the outfit she settled on was perfect. She looked beautiful. There was no other word for it. Not that she realized it. That's another thing that's funny about her. She's not really aware of how pretty she actually is.

When the guy arrived at our door she was all smiles. Glowing really. It was a blind date so she'd never met him before. He was just her type too—tall, muscular, well-dressed. I talked him for a few minutes and he seemed like an okay guy. Likeable.

But then he helped her put on her coat. His hand lingered on her arm a certain way and I saw her eyes dance flirtatiously. And it hit me that this guy could become her new boyfriend. Somebody that she could end up with . . . And at that moment I felt a sharp pain. As if I had suddenly been punched in the stomach. My blood ran cold and I said goodbye to her and wished her luck as if in a daze.

When the door closed and the sound of her heels in the hallway faded, all the heat rushed back into my body. I felt . . . angry. Thinking about her out with him. Thinking about them talking and laughing and having fun. It was like I couldn't focus on anything else. All I could do was sit there. Sit there, think of her, and burn.

Although that evening felt like an eternity, she actually got back pretty early. Apparently it hadn't gone that well. He was not her type after all. She laughed as she told me about their dinner conversation and how he'd been totally completely wrong for her. She said that she was glad that she was getting out there again though and headed to sleep smiling.

But I couldn't sleep. In fact, I don't think I slept at all last night. Because when she came home it had been, well, such a relief. And when she mentioned getting out there again it was like my world came crashing down. Because I realized something.

I realized that I was painfully, horribly, miserably in love with my sister. And if she ever found out she would be horrified. And that . . . that's something I couldn't take.

"I thought that you said she was your stepsister."

Just because we're not related by blood doesn't mean that she's any less my sister. Our family thinks of it that way, she thinks of it that way, I think of it that way . . . Well, almost.

"So from the day your parents got married she automatically became your sister?"

No, of course not. I know it doesn't work that way—I'm not being naïve about this. When she first moved in I'll admit I didn't see her that way. She was hot; we were not really related; I was attracted to her. But in time I came to see her that way. By the time I moved to New York I almost thought of her has my own flesh and blood.

So feeling this way, thinking about her like, wishing for something that can never happen—it's sick. The whole thing is sick.

"Sick?"

Well, it's incest! I have an incestuous desire for my sister!

"Calm down, Mr. Venturi. There's no need to shout."

I'm sorry. It's just that she's good and light and pure. And thinking about her that way, well, I'm . . . It would shock her. And I could never drag her down with me by telling her.

"That's interesting that you say that."

Yeah, the whole thing is scintillating. You people must really get off when someone openly admits that they're fantasizing about a family member. But just tell me already. Can you help me?

"I'm sorry, Mr. Venturi, but our fifty minutes are up."

_**Author's Note: **This one is going to be darker than my previous stories. It's written in response to the claim that Derek and Casey seemed more like brother and sister in Season 3 (which I don't necessarily agree with) and the possibility that the show might end on a non-Dasey note. I know where I'm going with it, but it definitely won't be updated for at least a couple weeks._


	2. Chapter 2

So, let's get straight down to business. Tell me what I should do here.

"I think you know that this doesn't really work like that."

Well, how the hell does this work then? Am I supposed to lie here and tell you some bullshit about my mother and how I want to sleep with her? Because like I said, it's my sister. 

"Why don't you start by telling me why you moved in with your stepsister in the first place. You're a successful film maker; you must be able to afford your own place."

It's documentaries. And she moved in with me. In fact, I didn't even see her for the first three weeks that I was in New York.

"That's a long time not to at least say hello."

Yeah, well, like I said, at that point I saw her as my sister. And I had no particular desire to see her. In fact, I wasn't particularly eager to talk to anyone in my family. They were all pretty upset about Kate.

"Kate?"

Kate was this woman I was living with for the past year-and-a-half. When I got the job offer here in New York, I didn't invite her to come with me. It came as kind of a surprise to her and to my family. She used to come to London with me for holidays. She was smart, pretty, witty, etc. Everyone in my family loved her. Well, everyone except me.

"And why do you think that is?"

Oh, that had nothing to do with Casey. At least, I don't think it did. Don't get me wrong, I did like Kate. In some ways though, I always felt like I could never be completely myself around her. It's not that I thought she would judge anything or me like that—it's just that certain parts of me, parts that I really liked, just didn't come out when I was around her. It's sort of hard to put into words . . . Even though we lived together and had some mutual friends, we each had our own friends too. Occasionally, she would come out with me and people that I was close to and I always felt like she was never really there with us. Like somehow, she was standing outside a window and watching me. Sometimes she would comment that I seemed like a totally different person with those people and I think it bothered her a little bit. It certainly bothered me. I really tried with her, but when I got this job offer in New York, I realized that I just couldn't lead her on anymore. After we talked about it, I think she understood where I was coming from. But my family kept bringing it up with me. I knew that Casey would when I eventually returned her phone calls.

"She had called?"

Yeah, after I got to New York she left me several messages. She and Brian wanted to have me over for dinner or maybe take me out to lunch. And, apparently, my stepmother had given her a box of stuff to pass onto me the last time she went up to visit them. 

"Brian?"

Yes, that was the guy that she was living with. She'd only moved in with him about six months earlier, but the two of them had been dating for almost two years. I liked the guy. He was a sportswriter who had published a book with the company she works for. Used to hook me up with tickets to things whenever I was in town. We got along.

"So why isn't she living with him right now?"

That's kind of a long story.

"We've still got time."

Well, finally after almost three weeks I gave her a call. Man, was she pissed. 

"About Kate?"

No, about my not returning her phone calls. So after we had that whole argument and got into the Kate thing, I agreed to let her and Brian take me out to lunch. I needed to get that box of things from her anyways. 

So I meet her at this café near her office, and when I arrive I see that Brian's not there. She tells me that he called this morning to say that he was tied up at work, but that I should definitely come and have dinner at their place sometime soon. And actually, lunch turns out to be kind of nice. She tells me about all the crazy authors she works with and I tease her a little about the book she's been writing practically since we graduated high school. Her writing is good, but she's just such a perfectionist that the thing is taking her forever. So, anyways, I agree to come over for dinner sometime and to let Brian take me to a sports game. 

Of course, then she just starts to gush with sisterly affection . . . About how glad she is I am here and that, if I promise to be a gentleman, she might even set me up with one of the girls from the publishing company. I roll my eyes at that, but secretly, make a mental note of it. 

So anyways, after much argument from me, she picks up the check and we start to say goodbye. Then I remember the box from my step-mom and she realizes that she left it in her apartment. I tell her that's okay, and that I can always get it from her another time, but she tells me that it's only five blocks away and insists we stop by to get it.

It more like 10 blocks, by the way, and by the time we've arrived at her apartment building she's had to take off her heels and is walking around in her bare feet. I smirk at her for that, but she just rolls her eyes at me. 

So we go up to Brian's condo on the 23rd floor, and when she unlocks the door I think I hear a noise. She brushes it off and tells me that Brian must have left the TV on. We head into her bedroom to get the box and that's when we see it. Brian and another woman are in their bed. I later learn that it was their next-door neighbor. So at first, Casey just stands there completely paralyzed with this horrified look on her face. He covers up, the woman runs out the door, and starts to explain things to Casey. And she looks really sad, but still doesn't say a word. He asks her to forgive him, and based on the expression on her face, it looks like she's actually considering it. 

I couldn't believe it. Here was this strong, fiery person just crumbling. It was not like her at all, and I had trouble seeing it. And before she can respond to him, I hear this low angry voice asking him how long it had been going on and realize that it's my own. She throws him a pleading look, and he sighs, and tells us it's been about two months. She bursts into tears and before I even realize what I'm doing I deck the guy in the jaw. 

I tell her that we're leaving and guide her into the elevator. 

"So that's when you invited her to move in with you?"

No, that just sort of happened. This whole thing with her just sort of happened.

"Unfortunately, Mr. Venturi, we'll have to pick this up at our next appointment."

_Author's Note: So this one is going to a little different. I think it will be less dark than I originally imagined it, but at the same time, the tone of it will on the serious side_. 


	3. Chapter 3

_**Author's Note:** Alas, my poor little story does not seem to be a crowd pleaser. But that's okay. At least the beginning of it has been stuck in my head for a little while and I like it. Thanks to all of you who reviewed! _

"So your stepsister living with you just sort of happened?"

Like I said, I didn't plan any of this. I never intended to go all "House of Yes" on her. I just offered her a place to stay until she got back on her feet.

"Did she move in with you the day that you punched her boyfriend?"

Yeah, pretty much. By the time we got out of his condo and into the elevator, she had pretty much broken down. She was sobbing uncontrollably and was kind of hysterical. She kept saying that she'd thought he was the one and without him she had nothing. That she was "bereft" and "alone in the world." When she muttered something about going back or having to live in her office, I couldn't take it any more. I gripped her shoulders and told her to look me in the eye. I told her that she was better then this and that she could stay with me until she found her own place to live. She looked at me quietly for a second. Then she surprised me by throwing her arms around me and I felt her crying softly against me.

By the time the elevator doors opened again, she had started to calm down. Then she got angry. I practically had to hold her back from taking the elevator back up. I have a feeling that she would have hit him herself if I had let her go. So we got in a cab and went back to my place. I called her office and told them that she wouldn't be back for the rest of the day and made her a cup of tea. Chamomile. It was always her favorite.

The next day when he was at work, we went back and got her stuff.

"And you had room for her at your place?"

Yeah, it's actually a two bedroom. I was going to put a desk and some exercise equipment in the second room, but hadn't gotten around to buying any of that stuff yet. I put an air mattress in there for her and told her she could stay as long as she needed. I only expected it to be a couple weeks max. I mean, she didn't exactly like sharing a space with me when we were younger.

"And what happened?"

I don't even know. The second day that she was there she noticed that I hadn't unpacked any of my stuff yet. I went out somewhere to shoot some footage and when I came back she had unpacked and arranged everything. At first I was furious. We got into this huge screaming match about going through my things and personal space. It was like I was 15 again. Then I noticed the way she'd arranged everything. Everything was exactly where I would have put it. It was weird. I didn't thank her or apologize for yelling, but after a couple hours of not speaking, I begrudgingly told her it looked nice. The next day she went out and bought me curtains.

"So she sort of moved in without asking?"

No, not exactly. For the first few weeks she was actually looking for places. When I'd come home she'd be there looking on the internet or circling listings in the newspaper. A lot of the time she would have something cooking, although sometimes I would call ahead and let her know I was bringing Chinese. Sometimes I would bring home a movie. One time, to cheer her up, I bought tickets to this Broadway show and afterwards we went to eat at this greasy spoon. It was hard for me to admit at first, but I liked having her around.

"Was it sort of like living with Kate?"

God no. Living with Kate was . . . pleasant. I guess what I mean is that it was pretty much smooth sailing. Living with Casey is infuriating. Like I said, Kate was in my life but somehow not really a part of it. Casey permeates it. Everything I do, there she is. Butting heads with me and pushing me to be better. Hell, the other day the woman spell checked the narration for the film I'm working on. She's frustrating, maddening, and completely amazing. And sure, we bicker a lot, but we laugh a lot too. And her smile is just . . . But she's my sister. And all I'll ever be to her is family.

"So who actually decided that she would stay?"

I guess that would officially be me.

"You're smiling Mr. Venturi."

I guess I am. I know I shouldn't be, but I just can't help it. I sort of sealed my fate that day that I told her she could stay, but maybe it was already too late then. That day she was just so funny. Not haha funny, just . . .

"Just what?"

I don't know. Just . . . Casey. It was about three weeks after she came to stay with me and she'd been out apartment hunting all day. It was raining hard and I guess that she lost her umbrella somewhere because she blustered into the apartment looking like a wet dog. Her hair was absolutely soaked and bedraggled and her makeup had seen better days. And she came in the apartment and squeezed the water out of her hair into the sink. I smirked at her and tossed her a towel.

And then of course she started to go on and on about what a rat trap the last place she had seen had been and how the place before that was like a shoe box. And the whole time, I was standing there, giving her this amused look, because I sort of realized that she was waiting for me to invite her to stay.

So of course I didn't.

"You didn't?"

Well, not at first. Not until I'd teased her for a little while. Pretended like I didn't know what she was getting at. 'Gee, that's rough, Case, but what can you do? I mean, I can't think of any way around your problem.' That sort of thing.

And I could tell that she was getting a little bit exasperated with me. She was being quite obvious about it—sighing melodramatically and everything. So finally I caved. I told her that if she wanted, she could stop looking for apartments and just live with me.

Little did I know that was the beginning of my own private hell. And if she had had any idea of the sort of thoughts that would soon be running through my head she never would have wanted to stay in the first place.

"We can discuss that further at our next appointment."


	4. Chapter 4

Thank you for seeing me on such short notice. I know that our next appointment wasn't for another three days but I really felt like I needed to come in.

"It's not a problem, Mr. Venturi. What exactly happened?"

Well, technically nothing. But what almost happened is unforgivable. I almost let myself cross that line.

"Oh?"

I mean I almost gave into my feelings for Casey. I went with her to this event yesterday and I almost forgot that it wasn't really a date . . .

"An event?"

A gala. Her company was throwing it to promote the release of this book that they were publishing. It was a black-tie deal and she was expected to have a date.

"And she invited you?"

Yeah well, like I said, that first blind date she went on didn't really work out and a corporate event wouldn't exactly be an appropriate place to meet another one.

"I suppose."

So she asked me, and even though I knew that it wasn't a good idea, I didn't say no. She had actually been one of the editors for this book, so she was pretty excited about the whole thing. She even went out and bought a new dress for it. From the moment I saw her in it I knew that I was in trouble. It was pink, strapless, and skin tight. She looked absolutely incredible in it, and before I even realized what I was doing, I heard myself telling her that. She blushed and thanked me and I worried that she could see right through me.

"Because she blushed?"

Yeah, well I wasn't looking at her like you should look at your sister at that point . . .

And after an awkward pause, she suggested that we go get a cab. She had spent a lot of time getting ready and we were running a little bit late. We got about three fourths of the way to this event when we hit a massive traffic jam. And, of course, Casey was freaking out about it. Our cabbie started honking his horn and the cabbie in the car next to ours began shouting obscenities at him. After, about two minutes of that, Casey suggested that we walk the rest of the way. It was only eight blocks or so and it didn't look like the cab was going anywhere anytime soon.

So we got out of the car and started to make our way on foot. We came to this busy intersection and I took her hand in mine as we started to cross the street. And it felt incredible. It was so soft and delicate. Although I knew that I should, when we reached the other side of the street, I didn't have the strength to let it go. We walked in silence, not really making eye contact, holding hands the rest of the way.

"And she didn't say anything?"

Well, I'm guessing that she was too embarrassed to. When we got to the building, she removed her hand from mine, gave me this odd little smile, and blushed. I felt this mixture of sadness and happiness and embarrassment, but I smiled back at her awkwardly and quietly suggested that we check our coats. She laughed a little and said that it sounded like a plan.

Once we got in there and sat down to dinner, I started to loosen up a little bit. Maybe it was the champaign or maybe it was the company, but I found myself becoming less self-conscious and not really thinking about what I was doing. We talked and laughed and Casey introduced me to the author and some of the people she worked with. A couple times I caught myself staring at her, thinking about how wonderful she was, and had to give myself a mental slap to snap myself out of it. I thought that she didn't notice it though. Looking back and talking about it now makes me feel kind of perverted. I mean, pulling the wool over my innocent sisters' eyes and all the while getting a sick pleasure out of being there with her like that.

"Do you really think that was how it was?"

It must have been. At least at that point, I must have been fooling her.

"Why do you say that?"

Because. Because she asked me to dance. If she had only known I feel about her she never would have let me be that close to her.

And by that point I had completely forgotten myself. I guess I lost all sense of right and wrong because I just felt purely happy. So we danced. And it was wonderful. I spun her all around the ball room and she laughed as I twirled her into my arms. And I laughed too, glad to see her having so much fun dancing.

And then there was a slow dance. And I didn't suggest that we sit down at our table like I should have. Instead, I moved closer to her and held her against me.

It felt amazing. I could have stayed like that forever. And at some point, I started to run my fingers through her hair. It was soft and silky and long.

When the song ended, she stepped back half a step. She was wearing just the faintest hint of a smile and was looking up at me softly. I looked down at her tenderly and, for a moment, I forgot about our family connection. I felt myself staring at her lips and leaning in as if to kiss her. Our lips were literally inches apart but at the very last moment I realized what I was doing, pulled back, and turned away.

I walked back to our table and she followed me. I brought up that time she had mentioned possibly setting me up with someone from her office and told her I thought that might be a good idea. She asked me if someone in particular had caught my eye that night, and I told her that no one had but that I thought that going out with one of her co-worker would be a good idea. She told me that she would think about it and get back me. We left shortly after that and didn't talk about what almost happened between us.

"And how did she look when you asked her to set you up with someone from her office?"

Flustered. Flustered and kind of upset. We didn't make eye contact during that entire conversation.

"And why do you think that is, Mr. Venturi?"

Probably because I had just almost kissed her! She must have been thrown and disturbed by my behavior. Wouldn't you be if your sibling expressed romantic interest in you?!

"Has it never occurred to you that there might be another possibility?"

The other possibility is inconceivable. Casey could never . . . And it would kill me to think that I placed her in that sort of painful situation.

"In our very first session, you mentioned not wanting to drag her down with you but we never really got a chance to talk about that. What exactly did you mean? In what way would you be dragging her down?"

By exposing her to those kinds of twisted thoughts.

"So just knowing that you felt that way would somehow contaminate her?"

No. Come to think of it, that's not really what I mean . . .

"Then what?"

"Mr. Venturi?"

I guess . . . I guess what I'm afraid of is putting those types of thoughts into her head . . . Exposing her to that terrible 'what if.' What if our parents had never gotten married? What if somehow we weren't siblings?

"So what you're really afraid of is that she might develop feelings for you too?"

Because then she would be in this terrible place that I'm in now. This place of knowing that I want, no long for, something that's totally and completely wrong. I've fallen from whatever grace there is in this world and it's something I can never know again. I would never wish that on anyone that I love.

"But I thought you said that you thought Casey could never love you?"

No. She could never love me _and_ smile like that. She could never love me _and_ let me run my fingers through her hair. She could never love me _and_ put her head on my shoulder as we danced.

"Mr. Venturi, I'm not—"

Somebody is knocking at your door.

"Well our session is almost done, whoever it is can wait a few more minutes."

I really think that you should get it. They don't seem to be going away and I won't be able to concentrate if they keep knocking.

"Alright."

"Yes, can I help you?"

_I hope so. My name is Casey McDonald and I'm Derek Venturi's stepsister. Can I come in?_

**Author's Ridiculously Long Note:**

Hope that you liked this chapter. Hopefully the previous ones provided enough back story for you to understand where Derek is coming from. The next chapter is going to be quite difficult to write because I'm going to try to stick to this purely dialogue format. It will kind of be a challenge for me to make the interaction come to life without describing how the character's look and I want to do it well. Henceforth, Casey will be in italics. Derek will continue to be regular text and the therapist will be in quotes.

I haven't decided if you're going to learn more about the therapist or not. He's not Paul, but he's certainly somewhat inspired by him. If it helps, I can tell you that in my mind he is a man. I just don't think that Derek would be as comfortable with a female therapist.


	5. Chapter 5 Revised

**Author's Note: Remember, **_Casey_** is in italics. **Derek** is the regular type and "**the therapist"** is in quotes. Hope it's not too confusing for you.**

**Note 2: I reread the last chapter after I posted it and felt the need to make some changes. There were some definite blanks that I hadn't filled in. Sorry for the repost.**

* * *

I really think that you should get it. They don't seem to be going away and I won't be able to concentrate if they keep knocking.

"Alright."

"Yes, can I help you?"

_I hope so. My name is Casey McDonald and I'm Derek Venturi's stepsister. Can I come in?_

* * *

Casey?! What are you do here? How did you even know I was here?!

_You left your google calendar open on my laptop again and when I saw that you had made an appoint with a therapist I thought that—_

That it would be a good idea to invade my privacy by showing up at my therapist's office?! What the hell, Case?!

_Derek, please don't yell at me!_

"Miss McDonald, I have to respect my patient's confidentiality so, unfortunately, if Mr. Venturi doesn't want you here I'll have to ask you to leave."

_Please Derek! This is important._

God, Case, please don't cry. You know what that does to me. Just sit down already, okay? You can stay.

"Miss McDonald, can I offer you a tissue?"

_Thank you._

So why are you here, Casey?

_Well, when I saw that you had an appointment with a therapist I thought that it was probably about me. _

Um . . . about you?

_Don't play dumb about this, Derek! We both know what happened last night._

Vague much, Case?

_Derek, you backed down!_

"Backed down from what, Miss McDonald?"

_Backed down from everything. From us._

Casey . . .

_From kissing me, Derek! We both wanted it and you back down._

Casey, what are you saying?!

_Don't look at me like I've just suggested we go out and murder someone! _

For god's sake, Casey, you're my sister!

_Don't you think I know that?! Don't you think I'm acutely aware of that every minute of every day?! You're my brother, Derek. I've thought of you that way for a long time, and at least in a small part of my mind, I always will. There will always be something terrifying and horrible about this. The thing is though . . . I don't care._

Casey . . . I never meant to . . . what have I done . . .

"Have a tissue, Mr. Venturi."

_You didn't do this, Derek. Neither of us did. I don't know exactly how or when it happened, but at some point I started to have feelings for you. Maybe deep down I always did. I honestly don't know. By the time I realized that I felt this way it was already too late._

When?

_That night. That night I went out with Carol's friend Jim. He was terrific, Derek. He was smart, handsome, funny, everything I thought I was looking for. But I was miserable that entire evening. Because I realized that he was totally and completely wrong for me. Because I wanted to be there with you. _

But you seemed so happy when you came home that evening.

_I guess I've become a better liar than when we were kids. I put on a brave face, but when I went in to my bedroom that night I cried myself to sleep. Derek, I never thought that you . . . _

"Go on, Miss McDonald."

_I never thought that you could have feelings for me. I thought that I was doomed to an unhappy life, either remaining around you but not being with you or else settling for someone that I could never care for. In fact, I was even planning on moving out and—_

What?! You can't just spring something like that on me! You never mentioned anything about moving out!

_Well, I've only been apartment hunting again since last Monday!_

You should have told me right away! You can't just make that sort of decision and not tell me!

"What happened last Monday, Miss McDonald?'

_Nothing. It's going to sound silly. _

"Please go on, Miss McDonald. I think it's important to get everything out in the open."

_Well, last Monday I met Derek at the Central Park Zoo. He was shooting this documentary there and he left one of the lenses he needed at home. He called me before I left for work and I agreed to bring it there on my lunch hour. So I met him at this little pond near the entrance to the zoo. _

Since it was her lunch hour, I figured that we could grab a hot dog and feed the ducks.

_And that's what we did. And it was nice. Then Derek suggested that we go see the polar bears. The zoo gave him free passes since he's shooting this film. And although I didn't have much time before I had to be back at work, I thought it would be fun. _

Case, I know I made you late, but—

_Derek, please, I'm telling this story! My decision had nothing to do with being a little bit late for work so just let me finish._

Okay, okay.

_So Derek and I went to the polar bear exhibit and when we got there we saw that there was a huge group of children pressed up against the railing. _

It looked like some sort of camp. They were all wearing the same t-shirt.

_Anyways, there was this one little boy who was sitting on the ground not even trying to look at the exhibit. Derek bent down and asked him why he wasn't looking at the animals. And the boy said that he was too small and couldn't see over the other kids. And Derek just smiled and asked if he wanted to sit on his shoulders. And he did, and Derek lifted him up and both of them looked just so happy. And at that moment I knew that I had to move out._

Casey, I don't understand.

_Well, I wanted that._

You wanted to sit on my shoulders?

_Derek, don't laugh about this!_

I'm sorry, Case. I'm just trying really hard not to cry here.

_Derek, does this really make you this unhappy?_

Well, you know I don't want you to move out.

_So what then, Derek?! Do you want everything to stay as it is? Do you you want to stay in your room and have me stay in mine and go on like we have been forever? Is that why you're hear talking to someone else about things you should be discussing with me? _

Casey . . .

_Is that all you can say to me, Derek? What we have now is a half life, and I need more than that . . . You haven't even told me how you feel. _

_Casey, I'm in shock alright. I didn't see this coming and I definitely didn't want you to have to go through this._

Don't patronize me, Derek. I can look out for myself.

"What did you want, Miss McDonald? What did you want you saw Mr. Venturi with that boy?"

_The whole package . . . I wanted to take our kids to the zoo. Mine and Derek's.  
_

Casey, please don't cry . . .

_And I knew that if I continued living with Derek those sorts of feelings would only get worse. So I told myself that I would let myself have one night. One night of giving into my ideas and pretending that I wasn't his sister and then I would get up the nerve to move out._

Then last night . . .

_Yes. And when you said that I looked beautiful and held my hand as we walked from the cab I let myself enjoy it. At the same time though, I sort of thought that I was imagining it. That my twisted mind was reading too much into your actions and picking up on signals that weren't really there . . . But then we danced. And I knew that I couldn't move out . . . Because, Derek, I saw the way you looked at me!_

Casey . . .

_Derek, that can't just be the end of it! Because I'm in love with you. And I know that you're in love with me!_

Casey, this is the kind of thing that there's no going back from. It would mean a hard life. And it would upset our friends and our family and would probably be looked down upon by a large portion of society . . .

_I know that. But not being with you would be worse. So please, Derek, just tell me that you love me. I don't care that you're my brother or that it's wrong. It's all that I want.  
_

. . . I love you, Casey. Of course, I love you.

_Then stop crying and just hold me._

**Author's Note: **

So they probably seem out of character in this one. I hope that you understand Derek's motivation here. I hope that it's clear that he didn't go to therapy because he lacked confidence or just didn't think that he was good enough for her. Given his mindset, this was a very painful morel dilemma for him and he didn't want to cause Casey pain.

As said, this is my answer to the anti-Dasey argument that they are siblings. I personally don't see it that way, but apparently a good portion of people do. When it comes to step-siblings, I guess that incest is really in the eye of the beholder. But even if they are siblings, I don't care. Derek and Casey are made for each other and their chemistry cannot be denied. So yeah, if you're one of those people who see it the same way that Derek does in this story, then I guess this is a story of incest.


End file.
